


A Thing Happened

by Python07



Series: A Fixed Point [14]
Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (1963), Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Kidnapping, M/M, Non-Consensual Groping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-26
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:44:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7268710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Python07/pseuds/Python07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Master starts the game with the Doctor and Alistair is caught in the middle.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alistair shifted uncomfortably. “Sir, this really isn’t necessary. I can get a ride back to the base with my men.”

Alistair stood on the front steps of the stately home. He threw a brief glare at his jeep sitting dead on the gravel drive. He swallowed his irritation. He turned back to his host, or more accurately, the man who’d summoned him. “Again, I wish to apologize, Sir Reginald.”

Sir Reginald was in his mid fifties with slicked back steel gray hair. He was tall and lean. He stood erect as befitting a man who’d spent most of his life in the military and who politics hadn’t made completely soft. He was staring blankly, his normally sharp brown eyes vacant.

Alistair frowned. “Sir,” he said, firmer but still respectful.

Reginald blinked. He looked at Alistair, polite and expectant. “Did you say something, Brigadier?”

“Are you all right?”

Reginald stood straighter and stared his nose down at Alistair. “Yes, of course.”

Alistair stiffened. He nodded crisply. “I wanted to apologize again.” He tilted his head back towards his jeep. “My chaps from the motor pool will be around to collect it as soon as possible.”

Reginald smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. He waved that off. “Think nothing of it. These things happen, Brigadier.”

A black Rolls Royce pulled up in front. It was a sleek, shiny two door with tinted windows. The driver got out and crossed to the passenger side. He wore a crisp gray uniform, polished black boots, and a hat pulled down low over his eyes. He opened the back passenger door and waited.

Alistair shifted uncomfortably. “Sir, this really isn’t necessary. I can get a ride back to the base with my men.”

Reginald patted Alistair’s shoulder. “Nonsense. I don’t need the car this afternoon.” He walked Alistair down the steps. “I brought you out here. I insist.”

Alistair tried to stop. “Sir, really I…”

“No,” Reginald overrode him. “And you will read my proposal. I think we could provide so much more for your men.”

Alistair had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “I will.” He held up his briefcase. He kept a neutral face. “All fifty pages.”

“Very good,” Reginald said crisply and pushed Alistair down into the car. “I look forward to hearing from you.”

Alistair tried to settle in on the plush tan leather seats. He set his briefcase next to him. He rubbed his hands over his knees.

The driver settled in behind the wheel. Alistair could only see his outline through the tinted partition between the back and front seats. 

The engine was a deep rumble and the ride was smooth. Alistair took out Sir Reginald’s proposal and hoped to make a dent in it before he got back to base. “Fifty pages,” he muttered darkly. 

However, the atmosphere in the back of the car was stuffy and hot. He turned on the air conditioner, but it didn’t help and the words on the page started to bleed together. He loosened his tie and undid the top two buttons on his shirt to rub his throat. He felt the flush creeping up the back of his neck.

He blinked and tried to focus. Suddenly, he couldn’t catch his breath. He put his head back and shut his eyes. Ten seconds later, he slumped over, unconscious.


	2. The Doctor turned away briskly. “Someone’s trying to change history, specifically mine.”

Clara followed the sounds electric guitar through the corridors of the TARDIS. She stepped through a doorway only to find herself in what appeared to be an outdoor setting.  
It was a clear, gray day, not hot and not cold. There were familiar sounds of birds and the waves lapping against the shore, but she could see hear the constant hum of the TARDIS underneath.

She continued following the guitar. She walked along a gravel beach. Every few steps, she picked up pebbles to throw in the ocean.

If the Doctor noticed her from his perch on a big boulder, he didn’t let on. He’d stripped off his jacket and hoodie. He was down to just his t shirt, trousers, and boots. 

Clara took a moment to watch him. He had his eyes closed and there was a small smile on his face. His fingers glided smoothly along the strings, one note flowing into the next. It wasn’t a melody she knew and it felt like he was almost rambling in his music like he did when he was excitedly explaining something.

She climbed up next to him. She curled her legs under her and got comfortable. She was content to just watch the ocean and listen to him play.

He eventually stopped. He opened his eyes and quirked an eyebrow at her. “Yes?”

She grinned brightly. “Just enjoying the moment, Doctor. I really had no idea of this side of you.”

He shrugged. “I’ve lived a long time, Clara. There are lots of sides to me.”

She took his arm and hugged him from the side. “I like this rock star version.”

He put an arm around her and briefly squeezed her back. “Pleased to hear it.” 

She looked around. “Where are we anyway? Is this a copy of somewhere on Earth?”

He started another meandering tune. “Yes,” he answered blandly. “A small island off the coast of Scotland.”

“What’s it called?”

“Oh,” he sighed dismissively, “an incomprehensible word in Gaelic.”

She looked at him curiously. “What brought you here?”

“I visit from time to time when I need to…” He paused speaking, but not playing. One end of his mouth quirked up. “…unplug.”

She chuckled. “When we first saw you jamming away in that medieval castle, I said that was nothing like you.” 

His only answer was to smile and play.

She frowned suddenly. “Then Missy asked me if I was new.”

He continued playing, smooth as ever. “You two should’ve never followed me.”

“You think she survived on Skaro?”

He nodded. “I’m certain she did. She’s always had a talent for surviving,” he said matter-of-factly.

She scrambled around to be in front of him. She sat on her knees and looked at him solemnly. “I have to know. Why did you send your confession dial to her? Why didn‘t you tell me she survived?”

“I didn’t know for sure,” he hedged, not looking at her.

Clara reached out to still his playing. “Doctor,” she prompted.

The Doctor raised his eyes to meet her gaze. He didn’t fidget. “I figured she did, but I didn’t want to upset you if I didn’t know for sure. As for the confession dial, we might not like it, but she and I have a long history.”

She bit her bottom lip. “But I thought…”

“Clara, Missy’s one of my own people and--”

She set her jaw. “And this isn’t something for us pudding brains.”

He shook his head. “That’s not it. I thought of sending it to two humans and you’re one of them.”

“Then--”

He put his hands up. “But I didn’t want to put that responsibility on either of you.”

She tilted her head to the side and studied him. “Who’s the other?”

His face flushed. He suddenly tensed. He looked up and spoke to the TARDIS. “You’re sure?”

“What’s wrong?”

He grabbed his jacket and hoodie, scrambled off the boulder, and held his hand out to Clara. “We have to go.”

Clara took his hand and let him help her. “What’s going on?”

The Doctor turned away briskly. “Someone’s trying to change history, specifically mine.”


	3. “This isn’t meant to be a spa holiday for him.”

“Boring,” Missy sneered.

The Master was a step behind her. He sighed heavily. “What?” 

Missy waved her arms. “This set up!” 

It was a bare room. The only things inside it were the still unconscious Alistair, the chair he was tied to, and the light fixture above him.

The Master grunted in exasperation. “What’s wrong with it?” He pointed in Alistair’s general direction without really looking at him. “This isn’t meant to be a spa holiday for him.” 

She bared her teeth. She folded her arms across her chest and tapped her foot impatiently. “Honestly. I’ve heard of minimalism but this is just plain lazy.” 

“And you’re being overly dramatic.”

“Harsh and unimaginative,” she continued as if he hadn’t spoken. She circled the Master. She clicked her tongue between her teeth. “Where is the customary style and flair? This is more suited to a Russian gulag than to you.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “You…” his voice trailed off in frustration. He muttered a curse in Gallifreyian before he opened his eyes again to see her bending over Alistair. “What are you doing now?”

She frowned in thought. “I’m just curious.” 

He cautiously approached to get a better look at her profile and the avid curiosity on her face. “About what?”

She kept her focus on Alistair. “The Doctor’s attachment to this man.” 

He hugged his arms across his chest and grumbled, “I’m still not sure I believe you.”

She tilted Alistair’s head up to see his face. “Handsome, I suppose, and not many men could pull off the mustache. It actually works for him.”

The Master shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “There’s no accounting for taste.”

Missy flashed him a brilliant smile before she swiftly straddled Alistair’s lap. She pressed against him. Her hands wandered.

The Master gasped, indignant. “What are you doing?”

She licked her lips. “Firm in all the right places. Maybe it isnae that hard to see what attracted the Doctor in the first place.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “You…” he tried but groped for the right words while she continued to grope Alistair. He shrugged helplessly and wondered why he couldn’t just kill her again.

“Very nice indeed.” She pressed her forehead to Alistair’s. Then she started purring and rocking in Alistair’s lap.

The Master stared at the display, horrified. Again, his mouth refused to work. He wanted to turn on his heel and march out but he couldn’t seem to move.

Suddenly, Missy jerked back as if she’d been burned. She climbed off Alistair’s lap. Her whole body shivered. She patted the back of her head.

He looked from her to Alistair and then back again. “What happened?”

“Two things.” She paused and shook her head. “One. He’s known at least two of the Doctors intimately. I saw them in his surface memories.”

He grimaced. “And the second thing?”

“He’s got strong mental shields.”

“This primitive,” the Master scoffed.

“Yes,” Missy answered readily. “I got quite a jolt. The Doctor must’ve taught him a few things about mind games.”


	4. “No. Something happened after the Brigadier got in this car and before the driver supposedly dropped him off.”

“Doctor,” Jo said sweetly, but with a hint of warning. She looked at their host solemnly. “We’re sorry for that display of temper, Sir. It’s been a difficult three days.”

The Doctor blinked as his tension uncoiled. He relaxed back into his seat in Reginald’s study. He smiled at the man behind the desk. “Yes,” he said smoothly. “I’m sorry to hear about your driver’s difficulties.”

“Perhaps, we can speak with him another time,” Jo said, with her hopeful, puppy dog eyes.

Sir Reginald hesitated for a split second before he smiled back at her graciously. “We shall see.”

The Doctor quirked an eyebrow. “I wish to thank you for your time, Sir Reginald. I know you’ve gone over that day before.”

Reginald stood. He straightened his waistcoat. “Not at all,” he said crisply. “Every pain must be taken to find Lethbridge-Stewart.” He spread his arms out and smiled apologetically. “I only wish that I could do more. We had a most satisfactory meeting and my driver took him back to the base.”

Jo jumped to her feet. “Thank you so much for seeing us, Sir Reginald.”

Reginald grinned at Jo and shook her hand. “It’s the least I can do. Lethbridge-Stewart is a good man. We need him.”

The Doctor rose, slower. He inclined his head to Reginald. “Before we leave, may we see the car?”

Reginald arched an eyebrow. “Why?”

Jo turned those eyes on Reginald again. “In case the Brigadier left anything behind.”

Reginald waved them away. “Very well then. It’s in the garage. The keys to all my cars are in a box by the door.”

Five minutes later, the Doctor crawled into the back seat and Jo slipped in front. She turned the key in the ignition and lowered the partition between the front and back. She frowned at the shiny dashboard and sniffed. “ArmorAll.”

The Doctor looked around the back seat. He felt between the seats. “Yes and it looks as if all the carpets and seats have been recently cleaned.”

Jo opened the glove box to find maps and insurance paperwork. She sighed. “Nothing. There’s something I don’t understand, Doctor.”

“Yes?”

“Sir Reginald insists his driver dropped the Brigadier off at the base, but the sentry at the front gate never saw him.”

The Doctor examined the vents. “No. Something happened after the Brigadier got in this car and before the driver supposedly dropped him off.”

“I don’t know, Doctor. Sir Reginald swears on the loyalty of his driver.” Jo frowned in thought. “Does that mean Sir Reginald is lying?”

“That’s yet to be determined,” the Doctor answered flatly. “However, there is something about him I don’t trust.”

“He’s spent his life in service,” Jo protested. “Why would he be involved in something like this?

“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” The Doctor ran his finger over one of the vents. “There’s some kind of film here.”

Jo half turned to peer into the back seat. “What is it?”

The Doctor sniffed it and then took out a handkerchief to wipe his hands. His brow furrowed. “I’m not sure.” 

Jo rested her arm on the back of the seat and put her chin on top. Her bottom lip wobbled. “I guess we’re not any closer to finding the Brigadier.”

“Fear not, Jo. Of course we are,” the Doctor replied confidently. He started going through his numerous pockets.

Jo straightened up. “Are we?”

Again, the Doctor didn’t hesitate. “Certainly. Ah, there it is.”

Jo watched him produce a small glass vial and Q-tip with all the flourish of a magician. She grinned. “Sample?”

The Doctor smiled back. “Sample.” He swabbed the film in the vents and dropped the Q-tip into the vial. He sealed it and slipped it into his pocket. He rubbed his hands together and looked at her expectantly. “I think it’s time we headed back to the lab, don’t you?”

Jo nodded. She took the key out of the ignition and scrambled out of the car. She went to put the key back in the box.

The Doctor joined her and put an arm around her shoulders. “Don’t let me forget what pocket I put that in.”

Jo giggled. “Yes, Doctor.”


End file.
